UltBt Wt Jnrgrt 




By EDWIN F. SURBER 



Lest We Forget 



By EDWIN F. SURBER 




TIIK SlIKXAXlxiAlI RIXKK 
onlh llninch— Nciir Minini-, Waircii Co.. \'a. 



:'l'.\Xl).\l;|i I'KiN I l.\(; (:<iMI'.\NV 
Kh II \]iiMi, \a. 






OCT-371 



C1A626793 



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LESl WE FORGET ! 



If for title you look, to place on this book; 
Do thou write on its back, the word Coronach : 
A lament for the dead, the thin^^s that have sped. 
For the heart feels the surge, of resounding dirge. 
Yet, above the lament, comes vision of tent. 
Of the Flag carried fair, by those who did dare. 
Of battles' stern array, in the olden day. 

Of heroes who led, of foes who Hed. 
Wild and high th: Pibroch rung, deep and low its moans were suni 

We do invoke, to lend thy aid. 

That we may launch in light canoe : 
A tale of village, not of maid : 

We do assure, the story's true. 




Tirr: smoxAxpoAn uivei; and ^rAssAN^ tien moixiaix 



Lest We Forget 



THE SHENANDOAH RIVER 



The Stars, thy parents are, O Shenandoah! 
Above thy silvery waves, a stream of Hght 
In waving" hnes of bars, along thy shores, 
Was flashing" red in azure hue of night, 
When poet saw, and wove in fancy dight : 
A web, with stars among and dreams elate, 
A cross, with stars along for banner bright, 
A song, with tones to woo the patriot's fate : 
And weaving" still, the thunder's boom for stroke of State. 



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in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



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r.i:sr Wm". FoKGF/r 



THE VILLAGE 



'llicre lay in the sun or the stars looked down npnn, a villai^'c. 
wlx're C}clopean lowers and castled hill, like grim fortress stood; 
when in eighteen hundred sixty-one, the heacon call to arms, 
threw its red light over the \'alley of the Shenando.ah. 

I'^'om tlie caverns, of the hill, through limestone clefts that were 
garnished with fern and moss, a buhbling spring uprose, as clear 
as crystal. Its waters were caught by the dam, overhung with 
willows that half-draped the mill, and eddying back against the 
cliifs alongside, formed a lake that mirrored the 1)lue sky, the 
passing cloud, the king-fisher as he perched on the elm. and the 
barn-swallows as they skimmed along its rippling surface to 
knead the mortar for their concrete nests. 

The blufif of cliff and hill, extending up to the road, gave lodge- 
ment to clusters of cedar, of chestnut oak, of locust trees, where 
perching and singing birds found summer homes. The oriole 
hung her nest high up on swaying limb of locust tree ; the turtle- 
dove with mournful note, brooded in the chestnut oak ; robin- 
redbreast preferred the many crotched cedar for his mud-thatched 
nest. The cardinal flashed his red plumage against the dark- 
green of the foliage. 

i-'rom dizzy e(\ge of jutting ledge of cliff, bloomed the wild 
columbine. The [faster-flower rooted there, heli)ed lo color eggs 
of man\- hues. 

In the waters of the lake, with chub and perch, were nibbling 
minnows, the yellow-sucker, the squirming eel. I'ython-like 
water snakes lav coiled on jutting rock, or lumg entwined from 
pendent grape-vines. The big green bull-frog, on his chosen 
throne of stump, gnarled root, or rot'en log, sat blinking or 
drowsing in the sun. or plunged ker-chug from the shadow of a 
passing stone. In the late summer, the yellow-sucker lay in 
schools, read}- for the horse-hair snare. While the minnow 
readily impaled himself on a ])in-hook. when tempted liy the 
wriggling fish- worm. 

.\round about the village were many sink holes and old field 
ponds, where the frog and the skilpot were comrades on nmd- 
rnichored logs, and wIktc little boxs first learned lo swim. 



8 Lest We Forget 

But the swimniing-hole was a mile away, where the river trailed 
from the North IMountain, its devious way, under hemlock and 
spruce, poplar and maple, over roots and rocks, in deep pools and 
shallow, by shivered cliffs, and by caverns whose gaping mouths 
drank up half its rushing waters. 

Nearby and under Castle Hill, was the spring-house cave, — 
every boy knew, — with its long hallway arched and floored with 
limestone. Where dripping stalagmites hung low, and Job's 
milk crock uprose from the floor. 

The mill, — whose great overshot wheel with its endless chain 
of buckets, was turned by the flumed waters of the fore bay, — 
kept on with its grinding task from Monday morning until Sat- 
urday night. The farmer boys on horseback, astride their grists, 
came to fill its hoppers with golden grain. The white-garbed 
miller, with broom in hand, stood guard against all dirt-encum- 
bered feet. 

The tannery, with its bark mill turned by a single horse, — its 
earth-sunk vats, from which reeking, odorous hides were drawn, — 
lay below the mill, and was supplied with water, drawn through a 
wooden pipe, from the spring above the dam. 

The paper mill, that contributed to the industrial life of this 
ideal village, was nearly a mile away below the lower dam, whose 
expanse of placid water encroached upon the meadow lands, 
marked by over-flooded cedars and stumps of forest tree, with 
its shallows grown thick with reedy flag, that in the late Sep- 
tember, marshalled its warriors with pom-pom crests, to hide 
young ducklings, both wild and tame ; the loon, and even the 
wild goose, tempted by its fair expanse, to brood or feed, or 
weary from long flight dropped down upon its peaceful waves to 
rest. When winter's icy breath froze its limpid waters, it became 
the village skating rink. It was also the home of the yellow- 
sucker. And when the eel was waked by thundering March from 
his oozy bed, he grappled his sinuous, slimy length with hook 
an<l line extended from many a setting pole. 



Lest Wi; FoRc.rn- 



THE BLUE-HOLE 



Alongside lay the blur-hole, whose deep fissure was cleft by 
some thirsiy Titan, that he might drink, from the heart-source of 
his mother-earth, the living waters. This is overhung with trees, 
deep-rooted in limestone cliffs, where the wild columbine roots 
and flowers in tantalizing luxuriance. Across the chasm a single 
board, from which to cast a line for sun perch that play in the 
shadows. 

I'arthcr the waters go. through Hume and dike. 
Over crest of dam with cataract roar. 
( )r as a babbling brook through green meadows, 
( )r but softly all but lost in the lush grass. 
( )r where the ox-eyed daisy, white fringed. 
W'nh golden heart, gladden the pasture held. 

r.ut here thev nmst stay for the Sabbath day, 
\\'ith eddying swirl and simunis curl. 
'J^hev placidiv rest on the dam's great breast, 
I'nder the willows. 




THE BLUE HOLE 
"Alongside^Unfathomable — Cleft by thirsty Titan. 



Lrst We Vouget ^ ii 



THE FORRER'S FURNACE DAM 



I'.eyond the great North Mountain the sun sinks 
To rest ; night comes on raven wing to weep. 
While the laughing, murmuring' waters sleep. 
The full moon fresh from her bath in the ocean, 
With ringlets dripping, peers over the lUue Ridge, 
And slowly lifts the shadow of Turk's great hill, 
From off the sleeping waves that wake to greet her ; 
Wizard nature's voice calls her votaries. 

I'^rom the ruins of (he furnace-tower, 

Conies the leather-winged bat to flit about. 

By phosphorescent glare of Jack O'Lantern there, 

(Jr of myriad fire-flies lighting the gloom ; 

To feed on unctuous worm or insect rare. 

The whip-poor-will calls from distant hill, 

( )r mutely sits on casement of the mill. 

The screech-owl's shrill cry is answered back, 

l>y old tu-whit, tu-whoo, of great hollow tree; 

Whose blinking eyes slow pilot him along. 

On heavy wing to feed on writhing snake. 

Or loathsome toad, or scurring rodent. 

The musical chimes of many June frogs. 
Mingle with the low note of the mocking bird. 
Waked to ecstacy, that trills sweet and low. 
From his leaf-hidden perch in rugged elm. 
The trembling night wind sighs in the tree tops ; 
'idle Spirit of the Valley glides through the mist, 
The ghost of \^oyageur floats over the water. 
The wild duck feeds where the cat-tails grow. 




THE MILL DAM-HEAD OF MOSSY CREEK 
A White Mill Swathed in Weeping Willows. 



Li;s'i- W'l-: I'^oucirr 13 



MOSSY CREEK CHURCH-1861 



The Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, who are among- the first to pre- 
empt the rich soil, found here a sylvan paradise, and mindful of 
tlie great Creator's beneficence, built in a grove of ancient oaks, 
a house of worship, named for the mossy creek, which was fed by 
springs from every field and all the hills, welling up from lime- 
stone reservoirs, and prospering, they surrounded themselves with 
the refinements of education and of culture. The nearby Acad- 
emy laid the foundation for college and for university. Preten- 
tious, of red brick with its colonnade portico and si)acious cam- 
l)us, it crowned the summit of a neighboring' hill with its easy 
ascending slope; while below were the traditional rows of white- 
washed dormitories with boarding-house. 

( )ther churches were scattered about on .Ahnmt Zion's with 
high steeples to be nearer the throne of (iracc. or in se(|uestcred 
gTOves to woo Deity to pleasant retreats. 

A summer Sabbath day spent here, was an occasion long to be 
remembered. The .Sunday school preceded the sermon, and 
while the assemblage from the country-side awaited the hour of 
service, thev were grouped under the shade of the trees, seated 
upon the gnarled roots of the oaks, or on slab benches, or stood 
l)v turns, or were stretched ujjon the g^reen sward. They were 
discussing the condition of the crops ; the contemporaneous events 
of ])olitical. social, religious, and educational life until time for 
service to begin. 

Afternoon service was ])rece(led In- lunch. Well-filled baskets 
were open to all who came. Prake-wagon and barouche were 
appropriated bv young women who queened over the rustic beaux. 

Stamping feet and swishing tails of neig'hing horse and whinny- 
ing mare that were tethered to saplings, hitching-jiosts. and 
bridle-racks, and acccnitred witli saddle or harness, together with 
the carpet-bag. that hung from the oiif-horn of the side-saddle 
witii its essentials of toilet, were features of this rural scene. 




SILVER LAKE, DAYTON, VA. -ROUND HILL IN THE BACKGROUND 



T.r.sr \Vi'. Vorckt 



THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES 



On April 17, 1861, \iro-iniu. after vainly protesting;' a.^ainst 
the armed invasion of the South : 

Flunj;- down with rage tlie gauntlet of defiance, 
To the gathering" clans of Yankee Xorthnien, 
Refusing longer unfair alliance, i 

Struck her shield a mighty blow, — and when 
It rung from hill to hill, — she struck again, 
h'rom crest of peak to ocean beach, a hcxst 
Awoke. — each lowland man and mountain clan, — - 
To see the fiery cross — the\- drank the toast : 
"To win or lie with slain of battlefield." their boast. 



Lest Wr Forget 



THE VILLAGE SCHOOL AND AFTERMATH 



Forth from the village school came the teacher arrayed in 
glittering- uniform, to lead to battle and to death, those whom he 
had only sought to teach. In but a little while the entire mili- 
tary population of the State was under arms. The wheels of 
industry choked for want of tending. Young boys with women 
and girls were left "to drive the team afield." The schools closed. 
The academies and colleges became hospitals ; or stood tenantless 
with broken shutters and doors ajar. 

That brief, bloody, four years of war, swept away youth and 
manhood. The nucleus of an empire, that X'irginia was nursing 
for conquest of the industrial realms of the south and west. 

At the close, when charred walls and fenceless lands failed to 
mark its pathway, — a riderless horse stood in the stable, or roamed 
the pasture field. Or an empty saddle hung on the rafters, or a 
spur or gauntlet, over the fireplace ; reminders of him who lies 
asleep in the churchyard, or on the field where he fell, or the 
prison where he died. - ■' • -" 

The maimed with crutches, gave further expression to this 
voiceless woe. Little children scarce knew, — for the hand of 
sorrow touches them lightly ; but their future was marred, their 
means of education, of culture, suddenly withdrawn. Many were 
orphaned and helpless. The property loss was incalculable and 
irretrievable. Measureless was the disaster. 




CYCLOPEAN ToWEKS, AUGUSTA CO.. VA. 
Loca iy knfivvn as "The Chimneys. "' 



Lf.st Wr Forget 19 



THE BELLS OF LONG GLADE 



The pastor, who on the viUag^e square prayed and exhorted, as 
he gave the silken banner to those who went forth to the fray, — 
many of whom returned only for burial beneath the oaks of the 
churchyard, — labored to give such comfort as he could to stricken 
homes, for : 

O'er every hearth the erstwhile tossing plume. 
Had become an emblem of mourners' gloom ; 
The bells were tolled for Bell's who fell, 
lentil they resounded from hill to dell ; 
The clan had answered the beacon call, 
Rut they had been met with steel and ball ; 
Their tartan plaids were stained with red, 
And sire and mother wept over the dead. 



Lf.st W'f. Forgrt 21 



THE FLAG BEARER. 



The wheels of the mill turned on, hut its ^rindini^- was slow; 
the oray-haired miller was there, hut his athletic helper was 
bearino- other grist : 

l*"or in his stalwart hands, — a glorious deed, — 
lie bore the symbol of a Xation's pride, 
-V cross of stars in azure gleaming:. — to lead: 
For those who saw, gave wild huzza! and cried, 
A battle cry, and rushed on foe that died. 
By gleaming- steel or cannon's hail, — a state 
Thv own, — 1)rave color guard on southern side; 
Stitzer, no mailed cuirass could fend their hate; 
Jlravc t]ag-bearer, thv doom was sealed I)\- the hand of fate. 




CASILE HILL BLUFF 



r.Ksr Wi-: F()Rr,;-:T 23 



THE BOOMING GUNS OF FIRST MANASSAS 



It .might be said witli truth that ihe booming- of cannon at the 
l-'irst Manassas, or iUill Run, ann.)unce(l the real war in Virginia. 
The air currents carried the reverberations to unknown, and at 
that time marvelous distances from the field of battle. Sometimes 
they came like heart-throbs, yet slower. A hundred miles woidd 
bt long and almost imbelievablc distance. 

Vet with ear attuned to catch the sound, it s ;on became familiar 
and easily recognizetl. Such an assertion is toilay readily ac- 
cepted. 

The guns of Manassas were heard far ;ind wide. ( )ver the 
mountain they came, a dull thud as the hoofbcat of a horse on 
the metaled turnpike of the Shenandoah Valley, wiiich for ninety 
miles from Winchester to Staunton, became the great military 
highway for the opposing armies. Located nearly in the centre, 
on the crest of the water shed, and nearly equi-distant from the 
mountains on either side. 

As a standard macadamized roadway, maintained in the high- 
est degree of efiiciency, it was the main artery of a system reach- 
ing over the AUcghanies to the C )hio River, both down the IVig 
and Little Kanawha rivers. The stage coach, conveying the mail 
and passengers, was hurried along by relays of splendid horses. 
The bugle note of the horn was heard as they approached rela\- 
station, village postoffice, or terminal town. This pike bore the 
tratific of war, during the four years, scarce scarred by its usage, 
and save for burnt bridges it was intact, and remains today a 
great achievement, almost the last remaining evidence of \'ir- 
ginia's internal im]^royements, ])rior to that war. 



24 Lf.st Wrc Forget 



THE A^'XLLF.Y PIKE AS A MILITARY ROADWAY. 



Save here and there rock fences, that extended alongside or at 
right angles, and built of blue-gray limestone, the \alley pike was 
fenceless in 1864. No attempt having been made during the 
last two years to cultivate. The fields lying near were covered 
with pasturage, when by chance they escaped as camping ground. 

When any part of this section lay between the lines or within 
the Federal lines, it became the theatre of a desultory warfare, 
kept up on the part of the Virginians, by a nucleus of scouts, home 
on leave, invalids recovering from wounds, or horse details, 
seeking the easier, if more dangerous method of securing mounts, 
often the only way for them. 

The effect of this was to confine the Federal scouting parties 
to the main roadway, and thereby protecting the outlying farms. 
Proximity to the mountains enabled these to protect their farm 
stock, and essential supplies from either armv, by hiding it out 
from friend as well as from foe. 



T.Ksr We Forcf.t 



THE TOWN Ol- NEW ATARKKT. 



( )ne of the many picturcs(|uc places on ihis i>reat military hii^h- 
way of the Shenandoah \ alley was the town of New Market, also 
famous as a battlefield, which lies well np on the crest of the 
water shed, and is likewise in the narrowest part of the main 
valley, separated by the peaked and jMassamitten range of moun- 
tains from Luray or Page X'alley, which it reaches over a turn- 
pike road through the New Market Gap of this Massanutten 
range. A diverging road also swings away to the northwest 
up Linville's Creek to Harrisonburg some twenty miles. Whilst 
going northeast, over Rude's Mill and Meem's l^>()ltom, and 
crossing the north branch of the Shenandoah River at Mount 
Jackson, after it has received the waters of Smith's Creek, from 
the foothills of the Massanutten, is the \'alley pike. 

In "Battles and Leaders of the Qivil W^ar," published by the 
Century Company of New York, 1884-1888, (ien. John D. Im- 
boden, of Augusta county, X'irginia, in \'olume No. 4, page 481, 
in his "The Battle of New Market, May 15, 1864," gives the 
following description of the Town of New Market, and adjacent 
country : 

"In 1864, the village of New Market had a population of about 
one thousand. Its site is one of the most beautiful in the far- 
famed Shenandoah X'^alley. The north fork of the Shenandoah 
River flows behind a range of hills that rise gently to a heighth 
of ]:)erhaps four hundred feet northwest of the town. 

"These hills were cleared and in cultivation on their slope 
facing the town, and at their foot runs the Walley Turnpike, the 
main street of New Market and the great highway of the Valley 
during the war. About a mile east and south of the turnpike 
flows" Smith's Creek a mill-stream at the foot of the rugged 
Massanutten mountain, which, from Strasburg to near Port Re- 
public, separates the Luray or Page \\illey from the Shenandoah 
\'alley for a distance of over forty miles. Luray and New- 
Market are connected b\' a mud pike which crosses the Massa- 
nutten mountain through a slight depression or gap four miles 
from New Market. Imvc miles northeast of New Market the 
\'alley turnpike crosses the north fork of the Shenandoah, on the 
boundary of the celebrated "Meem Plantation." Rude's Hill, 
one mile nearer New Market than the river at the bridge, over- 
looks the whole of the Meem's bottoms from an elevation of i)er- 



26 Lest \Ye Forget 

liaps from seventy-five or one hundred feet. No place in the 
great vahey was the scene of more conflicts than the Meem 
bottoms and Rude's Hill. From this hill to New Market, four 
miles, the country is undulating, and was cleared and in a high 
state of cultivation. I'.etween New Market and Smith's Creek, 
where the road to Luray crosses it, there was in 1864, a body 
of perhaps one hundred acres or more of woodland, and the town 
and its outskirts were ornamented bv many orchards.'' 

"From about the center of the town a deep little valley, or 
rather ravine, leads to the north fork of the Shenandoah River, 
and cuts the range of hills back of the town at right angles, the 
hills being higher on the .southwest side of the ravine, than those 
on the northeast side. This description of the town and country, 
is necessary to a clear understanding of the movements on both 
sides in the battle of May 15, 1864." 

The Massanutten range beginning with Peaked j\ Fountain near 
McGaheysville, and terminating its cleavage of the main Shenan- 
doah \'alley, with Three Top Mountain near Strasburg, here 
presents a long waving or undulating blue-gray indented line on 
the horizon. Nearer it presents that which it really is, a barrier 
to be overcome with difficulty. Darkly wooded, its crests are 
covered with cliffs and loose-lying rock. Haunt of venemous 
rattlesnake as well as of catamount. Long time have the wild 
turkeys reared their young, and found roosting places in the 
dark-green of its secluded pines. The waters gush from its scars, 
and near the foothills are found orchards of apples. Higher up 
were the refugee camps. 



I.i:sT \Vi-: I'oKci-.r 



Tiii^ SAiiTirs cri<:I':k school— iS()4-t8()5. 



in an ancient brand)- dislillcry, rock built, fortress walled; 
within, gushing- spring of clear cold water ; without, luscious 
apples on interlocking boughs ; and on the road leading along 
Smith's Creek, near rugged base of Massanutten an aged edu- 
cator, renowned through all the \'alley of the Shenandoah, for his 
erudition, begun by the blazing pine-knot, which the hard lines 
of his earlier life compelled, was teaching school. ( )n a da\- in 
October of i8(')4, a student of his, h;id occasion to visit Xew 
Market, three i-niles away: 

As the crows that tl)' across the fenceless fieUls, 
With here and there a group of trees. 
Whose massive base the canipers" axe defy, 
He slowly walked towards the gray roadwa\ : 
That echoed here and there with rythmic ihud. 
The loping horse of rider blue or gray. 

Hurrv up, there, and \(iu will see some fm-i, 
The Vanks in town, called out a soldier gra\'. 
As thev in dip and bend of slo])ing held. 
Rode swiftly on towards tlie gra}- roadwa}-. 

There was no screen to hide the foe from scout. 
The nioun;ains here lent aid to hnd them out. 



28 Lest W'l: Forget 



FAST ON THE HEELS OF THE 
HORSEMEN 



Horse-hiini^y was the youth who walked that day. 

He lacked a steed to be a soldier brave. 

j\ly kingdom for a horse, his soul cried out. 

Ten thousand roached and trimmed on prancing hoof. 

Had passed that way. 

On cloth of blue, MacClelland saddle lay. 

With army coat rolled, strapped on behind: 

In front, on either side, carbine and colt ; 

Ih-east girt, with crupper held, and band beneath; 

With bit to curb, and bridle rein in slack : 

This war-horse roached and trimmed, on prancing hoof: 

And thus they rode, each one of Sheridan's men : 

Ten thousand like him had passed that way. 

Forging ahead with hurried tread, 

A youth to fortune and to fame unknown : 

Fast on the heels of the h(^rsemen. 

Where orchard lay, he saw the soldiers gray, 

Still hiding and creeping, were on their way ; 

But now, they ride with rebel yell. 

And fire of shot that rattling fell. 

On weather-boarded house, where Yanks in blue. 

With foot in stirrup, leg on crupper, fairly fiew ; 

And they were Sheridan's men. 

A\"ith waving straw hat and shout, 
in his little black round-about; 
Hurrah, for the lone charge of one! 
A braver deed than that was never done, 
Ivist on the heels of the horsemen I 



Lest Wi-: Forget 29 

Then came a pause of the soldiers gray, 
They seemed less eager for the fray ; 
Something they saw far down the street. 
Where Yankees were in full retreat ; 
Cut leader gray would have his way ; 
They rallied, they rode, to the charge again : 

The boy in haste to see the fun. 

Close on the heels of the horsemen. 

Something they saw in peep muulier two. 
For back again they came into view ; 
The man was battle mad v/ho led, 
For oaths he swore, fierce words he said ; 
Forward once more, the soldiers gray, 
Were closely formed and rode to the fray. 

But whatever they saw far down the street, 
At last they decided to beat a retreat ; 
For back they came with pounding lope, 
Over the hill and down the slope. 

The boy was caught, too far to retreat. 

Or to follow the fixing horsemen. 

A brave cedar tree was standing nearby, 

Thus supported, he hesitated to fly ; 

lie waited long for pennon and lance, 

With throbbing heart, to see the foe advance ; 

rUit deciding at last that to be found out there, 

\\'ould be rather a dangerous afifair. 

He determined to flank, — 

For that was Jackson's way. 

P'rom cedar to cedar, who sentinel stood, 
Until winning at last the big gray road. 
Across its vista he swung with a bound. 
And down back street, to Linville road in town. 
With bated breath and steady pace. 
He turned on the foe a guileless face, 
Ris'ht on the heels of the horsemen. 



30 Lest We Forget 

For at the Linville road the soldiers blue, 
And thus guarding their flank had rallied too, 
And those brave videttes, in stirrup steady, 
With carbine poised on knee at ready ; 
With beady eyes a-leering, 
Into windows they were peering. 
Which way. they asked the boy they passed ? 
Answered the boy with wave of hand, out yonder ! 

Close on the heels of the horsemen blue. 
There came a regiment of infantry too; 
From curb to curb in platoon formation. 
They were marching on with great elation. 
Say there, Johnnie, 
What's the name of this town? 
New Market! 
"Faith, and we'll make it Old Market!" 
A son of Erin, cried. 

The horsemen gray, had gone their way. 
And may have been some of Mosby's men, 
Alert on the trail of Sheridan's men. 

Richly harnessed with housen of leather, 
And some with nodding plumes of feather ; 
Both horse and mule were hurrying along. 
Urged by driver with whip and song; 
Behind them with traces taut, the loaded wain, 
Six hundred, bowed and sheeted, in a train, 
Carrying food to Sheridan's men, 
Fast on the heels of the horsemen. 



Lest We Forget 31 



Bayonet Charge of Virginia Military Cadets 
Battle of New Market, May 15, 1864 



In early sprinj^-, — the fifteenth of May, 

Some braver boys. — had charg'ed from orchard way. 

\\ ho, to till a bloody wound in line formation. 

And with not a tremor of disturbed elation; 

Dressed to right, anfj on left, — marked time with rylhmic grace, — 

While belching- cannon spurted cinder in their face. 

As on parade, with steel and ball, they fought their way, 

I'o the smoke-wreathed top, where grim X'apoleon's la}'; 

\\ ith bayonet charge and battle yell, they won the crest. 

With gleaming' sword, they pierced the haughty foeman's breast. 

While express and laurel enshrine their fame, 
Mxrtle and rosemary hallow their name: 
Those W AT. I. Cadets. 



Lest- We Forget 33 



The Vandalism of Sheridan's Army, October, 
November 1864. 



On November 18, 1864, the Staunton Vindicator, of Augusta 
county, Virginia, printed a report of Rockingham county's looses 
taken from the Rockingham Register, of Harrisonburg-, Virginia, 
as follows : 

"Rockiugliaiii 's Losses. 

"The following is a fair and accurate exhibit of the losses 
inflicted upon this great and noble county of the 'Old Common- 
wealth,' by the Yankees in their last raid up the Valley. It has 
been obtained by our County Court, after diligent effort, and 
the employment of all the means necessary to approximate ac- 
curacy in such a calculation. 

"The Court after being called together for the purpose, ap- 
pointed a Committee of (72) seventy-two persons, consisting of 
(36) thirty-six citizens of respectability and standing, located in 
every section of the County, and after a careful and accurate 
canvass of the County, they have furnished the estimate of the 
losses hereto appended. Has any other one County in the Con- 
federacy suffered to the same extent? Look at the exhilMt: 

Dwelling houses burned 30 

Barns burned 450 

Mills burned 31 

Fencing destroyed in miles 100 

Bushels of wheat destroyed 100,000 

Bushels of corn destroyed 50,000 

Tons of hay destroyed 6.232 

Cattle carried oft" i ,75° 

Horses carried off i ,750 

Sheep carried oft' 4,200 

Hogs carried off 3"350 

Factories burned 3 

Furnace burned i 

"In addition to which, there was an immense amount of farm- 
ing utensils of every description destroyed, many of them of 
great value, such as McCormick reapers and threshing machines; 
also household and kitchen furniture, money, bonds, plates. &c. 
The whole loss being estimated at the enormous sum of twenty- 
five million, five hundred thousand dollars ($25,500,000.00). This 
estimate is in Confederate prices, and should be reduced, we think, 
about one-fifth in order to bring it to the (lOvornmonl Standard." 



34 



Lest Wk FoKGi-yr 



(irii. Jiibal .1. Early says: 

"While Sheridan's forces were near 1 larrisonl)uro-, and mine 
were watchinj;- them, three of onr cavalry scouts, in their uni- 
forms and with arms, got around his lines near a little town 
called Dayton, and encountered Lieutenant Meigs, a Federal 
engineer officer, with two soldiers. These parties came upon 
each other suddenly, and Lieutenant Meigs was ordered to sur- 
render hy one of the scouts, to which he replied by shooting and 
wounding one of the scouts, who in turn fired and killed the 
Lieutenant. For this act Sheridan ordered the town of Dayton 
to be burned, but for some reason that order was countermanded, 
and another substituted for burning a large number of private 
houses in the neighborhood, which was executed, thus inflicting 
on non-combatants and women and children a most wanton and 
cruel punishment for a justifiable act of war." 

Gen. Wesley Merritt, says: 

"On August 1 6. 1864. Sheridan's Cavalry. Custer's Brigade, 
retreated from Cedar Creek to Berryville. driving all the cattle 
and livestock, and burning the grain in field or stocks, — no other 
property was injured, nor were private families molested. 

"When the army commenced its return march, the army was 
deployed across the valley, burning or destroying, or taking away 
everything of value, or likely to become of value, to the enemy. 

"The Valley from Staunton to Winchester, was completely 
devastated and the armies thereafter occupying that country, had 
to look elsewhere for supplies." 

Gen. Early says: 

"The Yankees retired from Harrisonburg during the night of 
October 5. 1864, and that he arrived at New AL'vrket on October 
7, 1864. ' 

"That Rosser pushed forward on the back and middle roads 
in pursuit of the enemy's cavalry, which was engaged in burning 
houses, mills, barns, and stacks of wheat and hay, and had several 
skirmishes with them. 

"( )n the <Kh of ( )ctober. Rosser and Lomax encountered his 
wliole cavalrv force at Tom's Brook in rear of Fisher's ITill." 



Lest Wk Forget 35 



The Indian Summer of 1864, in Shenandoah Valley. 



'Vhv Indian SuninicT came, to veil ayain. 
The Shenandoah, with niislv mantle o'er; 
And i^hostly warriors racing", mist or rain, 
The crimson Hushing- saw of hunting lore. 
A tint of red on wreaths of clouds that soar; 
And pungent odors on the breeze did run, 
With breath of fire that came to open door ; 
Hut when the bm-st of tlame did shame the sun, 
There came a cry of grief and blame, for what was done. 

An Arm\' swathed in smoke of burning rage, 
J'heir trail was blazing down that \'alley fair, 
To scorch with shame the historian's page. 
The great bank-barns made red the midnight air; 
Homestead roof caught by flying shingles' flare ; 
The fire was out and racing dow^n the rills, 
It burned the fodder-stack and hay-rick there; 
Two thousand barns, with homes among, and mills, 
Whose wheels were turned by water's might from all the hills. 

With a hundred bands, tliey rode with burning l)ran( 

(As once Louvois, in the Palatinate), 

Along the Shenandoah's silvery sands; 

I ncm-bed their steeds, and rode with fiery hale; 

\\\- rapine led — while b'ury rotle wilh bate. 



3() Lkst Wk Tmjkc;i:t 



To one. we must deservinti- tribute ])ay. 
For tenderness, worthy of a higher care. 
For there in darkened room the mother lay. 
And with lier was a new-born babe, as fair 
Perhaps, as one that lay in manger there. 
In I'ethlehem, where Angels stood to wait ; 

With barn and mill ablaze, the burning Hare 
Of writhing embers tlung. made certain fate: 
All (lav. death's angel seemed to wait, there at the gate. 

To soldier bronzed, who sat on his dark bay, 
This story was told by the gray miller there ; 
On face that had been fair, a flush gave play — 
"God knows. I hate the task, some reason rare, 
Put out the fire, for woman and babe I dare." 
The brand had begun on the hay to feed, 
L'p there in the barn loft, by the ladder stair. 
His men beat out the fire with hurried need ; 
They rode that night with hearts alight, by kindly deed. 



Lest We Forget 



THE WAR BETWEEN THE STATES 



The tragedy of "The War between the States," had long been 
feared. Prophetic visioners sought in vain to prevent its con- 
summation. That tragedy has now passed into history — a history 
that has found no sufficient expression in book form, and in its 
full intensity can never be written. Language will fail to por- 
tray it or to convey to the human mind its full measure. 

The actors in the South could only do, each one, his or her 
own part ; but upon Virginia rested the greater burthen. For 
hei capitol became the Capitol of the Confederacy. And from 
being the farthest north in its physical conformation, soon be- 
came its centre. For within the radius of Virginia's own terri- 
tory, the two great armies contended for mastery. 

The one supplied with all the appliances of creative energy, 
backed by the unlimited resources of men and money, with the 
open door to all the world behind them. 

The other, isolated and continually shrinking in number from 
terrible losses on the battlefield. Depending to some extent on 
foray for military supplies and equipments ; the soldiers arming 
themselves from captured guns and pistols ; and clothing thcm- 
serves with home-made jeans or linsey-woolsey. Norfolk, Wil- 
mington, and Charleston, the only seaports available to Virginia, 
were soon closed to ahnost complete isolation, save by an occa- 
sional blockade runner. 

FATALITY AMOX(} LEADERS IN ACTION 

The fatality bv death or severe wounds which obtained among 
the leaders and officers of the Southern Army had a large in- 
fluence in determining the result. 

As at Shiloh, when Cien. Albert Sidney Johnston, reputed the 
greatest leader amongst them, because of already distinguished 
service in the old army, was killed when victory was almost 
assured. 

Again in the Peninsula campaign and the ensuing battles 
about Richmond, the severe wounding of (ien. Joseph E. John- 
s'.on. that Fabian tactician, probably enabled the army of McClel- 
lan to escape destruction. 

And then at Chancellorsville. when Cien. Stonewall Jackson was 
grievously wounded to death, it almost certainly saved (ien. 
Looker from irrelrie\a])lc disaster. 



.''S LicsT We 1<"okget 

At Piedmont, when Gen. \Vm. E. Jones, in command, was 
killed in the melee of battle, the victory almost won. was lost, 
and was followed by the burning" of the N'irginia Military In- 
stitute. 

At Yellow Tavern, when C.en. J. E. R. Stuart was wounded to 
death, another g'reat leader went down at a crucial moment. 

Elsewhere : Brigade, regimental and company commanders, 
whenever distinguished by their presence in action, became the 
target of sharpshooters. So great indeed was the fatality, that 
the question mig-ht well be asked, was it providential or organized 
effort. Which sugg'estions receive added force by the develop- 
ments of the Dahlgren raid. 

THE STRUGGEE BEIIIXD THE SCENES. 

Behind the scenic display and the pyrotechnics of battle, was 
the effort to sustain the men in the field. The cavalry rode their 
own horses, furnished a large part of their own equipments. 
Shoes and clothing", to the greater extent, had to be supplied to 
the soldier from home, either bv their own families or by county 
or municipal aid — and when this failed the soldier went unkempt 
and half-clad. 

The women were always knitting, and the shuttle of the 
weaver by nimble hands kept Hying-. The old-fashioned carding" 
machines and fulling" mills had not then been entirely displaced 
by modern invention. These became the basis for the manufac- 
ture of Confederate Gray cloth, generally used by civilian as 
well as soldier, whenever it could be obtained. 

The wool was carded into long rolls ready for the s])inning, 
which in turn was hand-sjjun bv thousands of spinning wheels, 
set in motion everywhere. The big wheel that stood on the barn 
floor, and the little wheel in the corner by grandmother's chair, 
while other thousands were brought down from the garrets. 

The old hand-loom, of cumbersome construction, long" time 
relegated to the outhouse for cari^et weaving, was again re- 
stored to pioneer activity. The manufacture of linsey-\vo')lsey, 
ne^er quite abandoned, revived with ceaseless toil. \MiiIe the 
cultivation of flax, the essential of genuine linsey-woolsey, was 
renewed bv almost every farmer. While hemp and castor beans, 
with sorghum cane for molasses, foimd standing room in luxuri- 
ant patches. 

The black sheep of the flock, long time in disrepute, received 
now fostering care at the hands of the shejiherd. Coloring mat- 
ter had to be sup])lied direct from n;iture"s store. Eor this jiur- 
pose. oak and walnut bark being much used. The art of dyeing 
received great attention. Calico and ginghams soon disap])eared. 
cotton osnabiu-gs taking tlieir i)lace. 



Li'ST We Fokckt 39 

The hand-knit socks and stdckinj^s. had not then l)een super- 
seded by the machine-woven. The l^usy liousewife, knitting- in 
hand, pHed her ever\' care. Knitting" was the first art taught to 
children. Knitted visors of colored wool were supplied to sol- 
diers, more especially to cavalry. Knitted hoods, were also worn 
by women and children. 

Doth hats and caps were made for men in soldier fashion. Hats 
were also made of plaited straw, the long green half-cured rye- 
straw being preferred — many of them of great merit. 

The farms were often denuded of all male help, and left to 
struggling women and children, sometimes without even the irre- 
pressible small boy. In man\- instances, these were compelled to 
make and save the crops upon which their lives depended. 

HEROISM OF THE SOUTH. 

The heroism of those engaged in the struggle, on the part of 
the South, can never be denied. It was a great battle at close 
range, with the old muzzle loading gun, black powder, ])ercussion 
cap, and the bayonet, which needs nmst have a man ])ehind the 
gun. 

Gen. Stonewall Jackson placed under arrest a general officer at 
Kernstown, wdio attempted to witlidraw his men out of range, 
when their ammunition failed. 

At Siiarpsburg, a Confederate command stood in line of battle 
for hours, without a single round of ammunition in their cartridge 
boxes. 

At I'^irst Manassas, a young \'irginian struck down h.is foe with 
a rock, which took the place of an empty gun. 



"The hand of the reaper takes the ears that are hoary, 
But the voice of the weeper wails manhood in glory; 
The autumn winds rtishing waft the leaves that are searest ; 
lUit our flower was in Hushing when blighting was nearest." 

— ("The Coronach," from Sir Walter Scott.) 




GEN. THOMAS J. 'STONEWALL) JACKSON. 

"/;; ///<• ./;•;;; V of tJic Sliciiaiid.nih. you Xivrr the Imrst Bricade! /;; flu- .Inny 
of tlic Pflt,niuic. von were the Imrst I'.ricade! In the Second Corps of tlie Arniy. 
von tire tJie Imrst I'.ricahf. I 3'^).'/ are the First Bricaue /;; the atfeelions of yonr 
(ienerul. and I hufe. by your future deeds and hearin,s:. you zeill be lunided down 
to posterilv (IS ilie Jmrst liRicAHE. in tins onr second wur of Independence.^ 
Farezvell!"' 

(See John Esten Cooke's IJfe of Sloneieull Juckson. Chap. II. pages 8-86). 



Lest We Forget 41 



Just Where the White Oaks Grew 



A clump of white oak trees on road that goes from mih, 
just where the pathway leads to bluff of Castle Hill, 
From whieh to view, outstretched before, the river-way, 
A village custom of the long ago, on Sunday. 

For you could see, on left, from rocky-ridging crest, 
The Great North Mountain swinging away to the west ; 
On right, the line of bluff' where ragged cedars run, 
With Cyclopean towers among, and thus begun. 
The waving line of hill, that o'er the \'alley flew, 
r^or thirty miles or niDre to crested ridge of blue. 

There came on more of fame, to where the white oaks grew, 
The eighteenth day of May in eighteen sixty-two, 
Stonewall Jackson by name, to rest on Sabbath day, 
A vision fair, unrolled before his white Marquee. 

The red-hill road. — guttered along when rains did pour, — 

That to the village ran, was lost when glancing o'er; 

(For village lay in sun, or stars looked down upon) 

For there were fields, all scarred with early planted corn. 

And wimpling watered meadows, and wheat fields waving green, 

Woodland and shading trees, and herds in pasture seen; 

Orchard clusters in view, with house and barn among, 

And birds were singing sons, as birds have always sung; 

Fdging crystal waters, locusts and cedars sleep; 

The mill below the dam, lay swathed in willows deep. 

From under white oak trees, the line of vision played. 
Far down Mossy Creek, that oft by dams was stayed ; 
As quivering in sunlight, it lay in sheets of silver, 
Or glinting, as the moonlight playing on the river ; 
Until the Furnace came, Round Hill, and through the an-, 
The lifted vision caught, the I'eaked Mountain there. 



42 Li„s'i- W'l-: 1miK(;i'.i' 



L'lliott's Knol) came into view, by turning- half around, 
With hood of snow, it stood, its crest a i^rcat white mound 
Today, in month of May, with hood of sober gray. 
In dress of green, it stands some twenty miles away. 

From its bare crest, except where huckleberries grew, 
A signal dag. — if secret code, you only knew ; 
A banner dung on high, on wireless wave it dew, 
( )ver X'alley fair, to J'eaked Mountain, just in view. 
And told the tale, to warrior (iraw in white Marcjuee: 
Tliat massing ])lumes of warriors blue, in X'alley lay. 

( )n either hand, these mountains stood. 
In tartan ])laid and crested hood; 

'J'o guard the warrior (Iray, 

A\'ho la_\- in white Mar(|uee, 
lust sixl\- years ago, on Sabbath day. 



Lest We Forget 43 

"Old Blue Light," fondly called, who stayed to rest, 
And to pray, on Sabbath day : Alone out there. 
Lender the white oak trees on castled crest ; 
He must have seen up there the spider's lair ; 
For with witches broom, he swept its web from air, 
And flung strategic lines across the blue. 
Always he prayed, so that it is but fair 
To say. this blue light elder, had in view. 
Communion and Council of War, with Deity too. 

This gray-clad chief, who bore the sobriquet. 
Of "Stonewall Jackson," rode "Old Sorrel" there, 
Where road by garden-wall and mill-dam lay, — 
A crystal lake, — that led to village square, 
Where lifted cap, betrayed his clustering hair; 
Beneath the brow : a glint of steel that fell 
From eyes that vigil kept, a dark beard there; 
This vision framed, we may not wait to tell 
Of fame he won, of death ; nor yet of foemens' knell. 

"Across the River," with his columns gray ! 
But e'er they passed, his name and theirs was flung. 
By subtle skill, design, and glorious fray, 
Through vaulted sky, to where the rainbow hung; 
His battle flag was scorched with fiery tongue : 
For it was carried far, where haughty plume 
On war-horse rode, and battle-song was sung ; 
From hooded peak, across the ocean's boom. 
Old time, his name and theirs, will sound beyond the tomb. 



Lest WP: Forgi^t 45 



THE STORY OF "NEVER DESPAIR" 



Today, Sunday, June 18, 1916, — crumpled up in her great arm- 
chair, the shriveled form of an aged woman sits staring into 
vacancy. Forgot are all her surroundings ; she is a child again, 
and wanders at will under the old chestnut trees; or is merrily 
singing in the spring-house yonder ; or with her brother, John, 
still a fair-haired boy, struggling with the diffidence of the 
dreamer, while going about his duties on the farm and shop. 
Now she talks of Gertrude, her cat, that was too fond of young 
chickens. Again and again, she tells over the scenes of her child- 
hood, of her youth, and young womanhood ; as the recur to her 
wandering vision. /Knd sometimes, she sings the songs, that 
still l)rig!iten her memory. The hymns of praise, and hope of 
future life: the "Home Over There," for which she is waiting. 
There are outbursts of long garnered up sentiment. Of religion, 
of home, of country ; and the far-off cry, she bursts out into 
patriotic strains of poetic thought ; songs of the long ago, this is 
one of them, which will follow. 

,Vn attempt was made to tell her about the conduct of the war 
in France and Belgium. She bitterly denied the possibility of 
such devastation, as was pictured to her: "Its a lie! all a he," she 
exclaimed. 

The result was that it recalled to her memory a poem that was 
j)ublished in January, 1865, that was new to all of us. Its foren- 
sic dictation, by her in a high pitched voice gave the opportunity 
to take it down. 

Of the original poem, she repeated three stanzas: The first. 
second, and sixth, and exactly as it was originallv pnl)lished. And 
literally, screamed out the last line : 

"And our mothers scream out, don't despair, don't despair!" 

She belongs to the Old South, and with it has passed away. 
Fler grandfather was a soldier of the Revolution, and she was 
named for Gen. Francis Marion, the hero of South Carolina. 

She was waiting with folded hands, and since has passed 
"Over the river, to rest in the shades of the trees." where "No 
niidit shall be in Heaven." 



40 Lest We Forget 

Staunton A^indicator, of January 6. 1865. 

"TO HIM WHO DESPAIRS." 

(Probably i^'rittcn by Howe Ychcrton Peyton.) 

The' the roofs be on fire, — tho' the rivers run blood, 
Tho* their flag's on the hill, on the plain, on the Hood ; 
Thoug^h their bayonets bristle, and shouts rend the air ; 
Faint heart, do not utter one cry of despair ! 

The red moon looks on the field of the slain. 
The gaunt vulture soars o'er the desolate plain ; 
By the loved ones that mantled in glory lie there. 
Arouse from thy slumber, and do not despair ! 

We have mountains that lift their gray peaks to the skies, 
We have rivers whose creeks to the war yells replies, 
We have sinewy arms, we have souls that will dare ; 
While these are our safeguards, why doubter, despair ! 

The great God is just, and he blesses the right, 
He makes the weak to rise like a giant in might ; 
When he strikes for his, and the tender ones there, — 
There is hope in each blow^ — there's shame in despair ! 

Then shoulder to shoulder and push on with a tread, 
That will shake the loose earth that is heaped o'er the dead ; 
l*>ear the torch and the sword to the proud tyrant's lair. 
Let the wild battle shout drown the wave of despair ! 

Despair, while the old man can flourish his stafif. 
Despair, while the boy at the invader can laugh: 
Despair, while our wives and daughters kneel in prayer. 
And our mothers scream out, — don't despair, — don't despair! 

Go preach to the rock on the lone ocean's shore, 

And tell it to battle the billow no more ; 

While there's life there is hope, for the death blow prepare. 

It is glorious to battle, it is base to despair! 






■■-,*;f.S:--^... 



